


All Your Bras (Or At Least This One)

by Magik3



Category: New Mutants, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Cute, F/F, Underwear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 20:43:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14679132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magik3/pseuds/Magik3
Summary: While putting away the laundry, Illyana starts playing with one of Kitty's bras.





	All Your Bras (Or At Least This One)

  
It was one of those days when everyone was in a good mood. Even Logan (not that he’d admit to it). Illyana had been doing her laundry, which inevitably meant doing some of Kitty’s. To maximize space in their room, they’d switched to a one-hamper system last year.  
  
Illyana’s idea of putting away laundry was to shove into a drawer anything that didn’t absolutely need to be folded. But Kitty liked things folded and over time Illyana had taken to folding everything because it was the most efficient way to sort it without having to think too much about it.  
  
As usual, Lockheed helped. First by actually helping: Illyana draped a sweatshirt that hadn’t fully dried over the back of the desk chair and Lockheed perched on the desk and blew warm air at it. Then by not helping: he got his head through a loop of one of Kitty’s training bras and flew around the room with it.  
  
“That’s not funny,” Illyana told him, but it was and she gave up trying not to laugh.  
  
That being Lockheed’s goal, he finished by dropping the bra onto Illyana’s head. With her distracted, he snagged a favorite t-shirt from the “clean” pile and dragged it under the bed.  
  
“Hey, I’m cleaning out your nest next, so put anything you really want to keep toward the back,” Illyana told him.  
  
She got a disgruntled “hmph” and a puff of smoke rolling out from under Kitty’s bed.  
  
In case Lockheed had more raids planned, she pulled off her T-shirt and got a clean one from the pile. And paused. Looked at herself in the mirror, Kitty’s festive training bra hung on the side of the laundry basket. It was pink and light blue and yellow with cute black hexagons. Illyana hadn’t known that hexagons could be done in “cute,” but their lines were in dashes around blue and yellow flowers, or maybe snowflakes, on the pink background.  
  
Pink was not Illyana’s color.  
  
She picked up the bra, rubbed it between fingers and thumbs, thought about all the time this material had spent wrapped around her immaterial girl. Touched the parts where the curve of Kitty’s breasts would push out the fabric, and then, reverently, the parts that would cover her nipples.  
  
After that it just made sense to put it on. But not while wearing her old, tattered sweatpants. She got a pair of Kitty’s sleep shorts out of the laundry basket, stepped out of sweatpants and undies, pulled them on. They swapped sleep shorts a lot, though she’d probably never worn this pair because of the pink.  
  
She pulled the bra over her head and stretched it over her chest. She was still a fair bit bigger in the breast department than Kitty, but Kitty had been catching up. She’d almost fit into Kitty’s bras, but not the training bras. On Illyana’s breasts, the material stretched too much and didn’t quite cover everything. The straining material looked oddly suggestive.  
  
She wasn’t sure what to do with that information, but of course Kitty phased through the door.  
  
She saw the laundry first, the folded piles on her bed. “Thanks, I meant to do that, but … oh. Is that …? Wow that looks different on you.”  
  
“I can’t tell if it’s good or not.”  
  
“Oh it’s good. Why …” Kitty trailed off as she came up behind Illyana. She put her hands on Illyana’s ribs, fingers spread, kissed the side of her neck. Fingers moved up Illyana’s ribs, found the curve of her breasts. There was a half-inch of space where her breasts had pushed out the bra, where the elastic couldn’t quite pull the fabric to her torso, and Kitty put the edges of her fingers there, at the very bottom curve of Illyana’s breasts, fingers hot, callouses rough on the delicate skin.  
  
Illyana leaned back into her.  
  
Kitty kissed the back of her neck and the base, whispering, “Are you being me today?”  
  
Illyana nodded, too breathless from that idea to say anything.


End file.
